


Rotten Judgement

by Redgillan



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Greek Mythology, Alternate Universe - Hercules (1997) Fusion, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Reader-Insert, Slaves, sorry - Freeform, sort of, tagged as mature but no sex in this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-02
Updated: 2017-07-23
Packaged: 2018-11-08 04:47:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 15,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11074356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Redgillan/pseuds/Redgillan
Summary: Hercules!AU After selling your soul to save your lover’s life, you become one of the Lord of the Underworld’s slave. Bucky is obsessed with one thing: collecting hearts. But why?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is loosely based on Hercules, also used a few quotes. The glowing heart thing is from Once Upon A Time.  
> Warnings: Language, Angst, Slaves, Demonic creatures, Mythology

 

You hurried along the busy streets of New York City, clutching your bag to your chest. The soft red glow of the beating heart you stole seeped through the small leather bag. Stealing hearts wasn’t something you were proud of, but you didn’t have a choice. You had sold your soul to the devil and agreed to serve him. You hugged the bag closer as two people walked past you, afraid they might try to steal it. The heart beat steadily against your belly, making you feel nervous. Someone in Brooklyn was unknowingly living without his heart. Looking over your shoulder to make sure that no one was watching, you rounded the corner and entered the alleyway.

Who would have guessed that the passage to the Underworld was in the alley behind a bar? You opened the door hidden behind a trash dumpster and took a step forward, leaving the city and its noises behind.

The narrow tunnel that led to the antechamber of the Underworld was cold and damp. Feeling around in the dark, you found an oil lamp hanging on the wall. You lit the lantern with some matches you had brought with you and held it high to light the path that led to the only rowboat moored to the dock. Spirits walked aimlessly around you, but you had long ago learned to ignore them. You left the lantern on the ground as you neared the ferryman. He carried souls across the river, but without the precious coin that served as payment, these poor souls were doomed to wander for eternity.

“Do you have your coin, miss?” the ferryman teased, extending his dirty hand.

“Stop it, Scott. You know Bucky doesn’t like when I’m late.”

Scott snorted, a sound that echoed through the gigantic cave. “The last person who called him by his name was thrown into the river Phlegethon.”

Ah, the river Phlegethon. You often heard the screams of those tortured in the Fiery River. You had thought of throwing yourself into the river many times. After all, you were already destined to a life of servitude and eternal misery. It couldn’t be worse.

You climbed into the boat and sat at the front while Scott used the long paddle to push the boat away from the dock. Souls swam idly in the greenish water below, some of them were familiar. Friends and family members who died too soon. The air was dank, which gave the air a particular smell and taste you had learned to associate with death. You hated it, the smell clung to your skin like smoke to clothing. But no matter how much you hated to admit it, sometimes you missed the Underworld. Some part of you believed that it was slowly becoming your home.

The palace was dark and wreathed in fog like a gothic version of the Magic Kingdom. Scott took your hand and helped you off the boat. You watched as he made his way back to the antechamber. You took a deep breath and turned to face the large double doors of the palace.

Fortunately, Cerberus was asleep. You moved stealthy to the doors, careful not to wake the dog up. One the heads yawned, blowing its fetid breath across your face. You covered your nose and mouth with you hand as you tried not to throw up.

The two dark angels guarding the doors recognized you immediately. The doors opened with a loud creak, revealing the darkened courtroom. The place was bathed in soft yellow and red lights coming from dozens of torches stationed around the throne room. The Lord’s throne was set on a pedestal in the back of the room. Bucky was sitting back in his chair, a distant look in his eyes. You walked slowly toward him, bracing yourself for the moment when he would see you.

A ghastly smile spread over his face as he saw you. In truth, he was a handsome man. His all-black suit complimented his slim, muscular figure. His jaw looked like it had been chiseled out of granite and his chin boasted a deep cleft.

He walked over to you and spread his arms wide like he was about to hug you. “You’re back!”

“I’m not collecting hearts anymore,” you deadpanned, thrusting the bag into his chest.

You took a step back, putting some distance between your bodies. Bucky peeked into the bag, a lopsided grin curled his lips. You rolled your eyes, he was way too excited.

“My word!” he exclaimed, watching the human heart beat as if it was still inside a chest. “Oh, darlin’, you’re the best.”

“I don’t care, I’m done.”

Bucky raised his gaze to your face, gauging your expression. You stood straight, your head held high. You gave him your best _‘don’t fuck with me’_ look, but he didn’t seem that impressed.

“You’re forgetting one teensy-weensy tiny detail,” he said in an odd merry tone before his eyes narrowed and he exploded. “I OWN YOU.”

You removed the enchanted bracelet that allowed you to take a human heart without injuring your victim and threw it at him. It hit his chest and fell at his feet.

“Get yourself another girl. I’m through.”

“My sweet little minion,” he cooed teasingly as he made the bracelet appear in his metal hand.

His left arm was entirely made of metal. His dark limb was weirdly entrancing, it shimmered when he used his demonic powers. Scott once told you that he had lost his arm during a war against the other gods, but you knew better than to ask questions. On your first day of training, over three years ago, he used his metal hand to rip out a man’s heart. You had been terrified, until you realized the heart was glowing and the man was still alive. When Bucky whispered into the heart, the man obeyed without question.

The Lord took your hand, his fingers wrapped around your forearm in a surprisingly gently grip. His cold, slender fingers made your skin prickle with goosebumps as he hooked the bracelet around your wrist.

“You work for me, _capiche_?” You nodded. “Use your words, pretty thing.”

He knew you hated when he called you that, but he enjoyed the way your eyes narrowed, the way they sparkled with fire when you got mad. He grinned when your jaw clenched and your nostrils flared.

“Do not call me that,” you said through gritted teeth.

He held your stare, reading every flicker of your lashes, before he chuckled. “Well, this was entertaining, but I’m afraid I have some business to attend to.”

He brushed his lips against the back of your hand, but you quickly pulled your hand free and moved away from him.

“Furies!” His sudden scream vibrated through the cold walls.

There was a moment of complete silence before you heard the sound of frantic footsteps coming closer. A brunette with long hair entered the throne room with a panicked look on her face. She opened her mouth to speak, but before she could say a word, a beautiful redhead entered the room and bumped into her. They fell to the ground and, somehow, ended up tangled in each other. They whimpered as they tried to push themselves off the ground. Bucky closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, releasing a deep sigh.

“Reporting for duty, your most lugubriousness,” they both chanted, smiling awkwardly.

“Dear Me, you are useless.” Bucky rolled his eyes, throwing the heart to the redhead. “Take this to the vault and let me know the _instant_ the Fates arrive.”

The two furies, who were finally standing in front of the God, started fidgeting. You had been around long enough to know what that meant: they forgot to tell him something. You casually leaned against the door frame and folded your arms, enjoying the show.

“They’re here,” the brunette said with a cringe.

“WHAT? The Fates are here and you didn’t tell me?” Bucky shouted.

They immediately threw themselves at his feet and cried. You watched their bodies turn into giant slugs.

“We are worms, worthless worms!” they sobbed.

“Fine, fine.” Bucky waved a metal hand at them, breaking their magic. The two women returned to their human forms. “Memo to me, maim you after my meeting.” He tapped his index finger to his temple twice.

He gave you a wink on the sly as he strutted out of the room. Your face twisted into a disgusted grimace and you turned your head to the side to avoid looking at him. Once he was gone, you turned to the two furies.

“You two are pathetic.”

The redhead shrugged. “It’s important to let your boss think that he’s in control. Right, Wanda?”

Wanda grinned and comically swooned right into the redhead’s arms. “Oh, but I am a weak and feeble woman, please don’t hurt me, my King.”

They cackled loudly as they walked past you into the hall. You looked up at the ceiling and took a deep breath to calm yourself. These people were really testing your sanity. You pushed yourself off the door-frame and walked slowly behind them. When you walked into the vault, Wanda was delicately placing the beating heart into an empty box that she slipped back into the wall opening. The redhead sat on the table in the middle of the room and folded one leg over the other.

“Why is he collecting all these hearts?” you wondered at loud.

“Maybe he’s building an army,” the redhead shrugged.

“But why does he need an army, Nat?”

“Maybe he wants to take over the world with an army of heartless people.” She extended her arms in front of her like a zombie.

Was it really Bucky’s endgame? A shiver ran down your spine.

While Nat and Wanda were making silly zombie noises, you looked around the room. There were more than a thousand beating hearts inside the vault, which meant that there were more than a thousand people unknowingly living without their hearts.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Language, Angst, Slaves, Demonic creatures, Mythology , Attempt Assault

 

“I know who you work for,” Brock Rumlow, notorious human trash bag, hissed as he pinned you with the weight of his body against a brick wall.

He put his big, calloused hand around your throat and tightened his grip until you were gasping for air. You tried to pull yourself free, but your hands were trapped behind your back. He was breathing so close to your face that you could feel his clammy breath on your skin.

In hindsight, you should have known that Rumlow wasn’t going to be easy an easy target. He was a murderer and a thief, he probably didn’t even have a heart. Your targets were usually old people or horny men, this was a first and you couldn’t understand why Bucky needed his heart. It was most likely all black and corrupted.

You were starting to lose all hope of getting out this alley alive when someone cleared their throat behind Rumlow. You couldn’t see them, but you secretly hoped it would be the God of Death. You gave Rumlow a slow grin when you saw the surprised expression on his face.

“Sir? I'll have to ask you to release that young lady.”

You rolled your eyes and let your head fall back against the brick wall. Another inexperienced wannabe hero decided to come to your rescue. This one, thought, was probably their leader.

“Keep moving, captain.”

“Aren’t you a damsel in distress?” he asked, confusion lacing his voice.

“I’m a damsel,” you groaned, trying to pull yourself free. “I’m in distress,” you huffed out a frustrated sigh when it didn’t work. “I can handle it. Have a nice day.” You gave him a bright, fake smile.

“Ma'am, I'm afraid you may be too close to the situation to realize-”

Rumlow turned to look at the mass of muscle standing behind him. His hand was still tightly gripping your throat, but thankfully his swift movement freed one of your legs.

Straightening yourself best as you could, you brought up your knee and kicked him in the groin. Rumlow yelled out in pain, releasing you as he tried to cover his crotch with his hands. The wannabe hero stared slack-jawed as Rumlow fell over on his side and curled into a foetal position.

“Wow,” he gasped quietly.

“Told you. I can handle this,” you replied, brushing a strand of hair away from your forehead.

You took a better look at him and noticed his strange suit. Usually, superheroes wore tight spandex suits, but this man was wearing a pair of blue booty shorts over matching leggings. His white and red shirt, which was at least a size too small, stretched tight against the bulging muscles of his arms and chest.

He looked cute, cute enough for you to smile at him despite being a little shaken. He gave you a slow, shy smile.

“So, do you have a name or should I just call you Captain America?”

“Captain America?” he repeated. He rubbed the back of his neck and scrunched up his face, a sign he was embarrassed, but also secretly enjoying the nickname.

“Well, you’re a vigilante and you’re wearing a patriotic suit.” You jutted out your hip and swirled your index finger, pointing at his shorts. “Are those booty shorts?”

He tugged at the hem of his shorts in a vain attempt to hide himself, his pale face turning three shades of red.

“Steve Rogers,” he avoided your question and held out his hand.

“I think I prefer Captain America.”

“And you are?” he called after you as you turned away.

“Leaving,” you replied cheekily and rounded the corner. “Bye Captain America.”

Steve had a goofy smile on his face as he watched you go. He sighed to himself, a smitten look on his face. You made sure no one was following you as you made your way back to the secret passage leading to the Underworld.

You had never failed an assignment before and you wondered what kind of punishment you would get for coming back without Rumlow’s heart. It wasn’t like you could have ripped it out of his chest in front of Captain America.

But right now, you felt like a failure and you didn’t like it at all. It was a feeling you associated with your previous life. You used to be gentle and kind, until someone ripped your heart out of your chest. Metaphorically speaking this time. You would never admit it, but ripping hearts gave you a wonderful sense of control and power.

“Ma’am?”

You felt a tug at your sleeve. Two little girls, dressed in rags, were standing next you. They were incredibly thin and covered in dirt as if they had walked straight out of the pages of a Dickens novel.

“Do you have food in your bag?” one of them asked, flashing a sickening grin.

You crossed your arms over your chests, glaring at the two Victorian beggars.

“Is there an audition for Oliver Twist in town?” You grinned, recognizing the Furies under their disguises.

The little girls exchanged a look before they returned to their normal appearance. You quickly looked around to make sure no one saw the Furies use their magic. They rolled their eyes when you told them to be more careful.

“Do you have the heart?” Nat snatched your bag and opened it with trembling hands. “I’ve never seen a dark heart before. This is so exciting!” she squealed.

“I don’t have the heart,” you grumbled, moving past her.

“What do you mean you don’t have the heart?”

That voice sent a chill down your spine. It wasn’t Nat or Wanda, it was the Lord himself. You froze and took a deep breath before turning to face him.

“It wasn’t my fault,” you explained. “Rumlow knew you wanted his heart. He pushed me against a wall and-”

Before you could finish your sentence, Bucky took a hurried step toward you. His expression changed to one of concern as his hand circled your waist. Surprise rendered you speechless. Your heart soared at his sudden display of affection. He searched your face, looking for any signs of injury.

“Did he hurt you?”

Your pulse sped up and your throat closed up. It took you a moment to find your voice. “No, some gu-”

“How dare he mess with my servants?!” Bucky shouted, making Wanda and Nat jump slightly. You were pretty sure they only did it because he liked when people were afraid of him.

He released you abruptly and turned his back on you. For a brief moment, you thought he might care about you. You were so stupid, he literally owned your soul. He was scared to lose one of his servants, nothing more.

“Where is he?” Bucky turned back to you, anger still coursing through his veins.

“Still in the alley, I suppose.” You shrugged, looking away from him before you added, “with Captain America.”

Bucky recoiled as if he had been slapped across the face. “Who the Hell is Captain America?”

“Some guy who tried to save my life.”

“He saved your life,” Bucky repeated.

You shrugged again and turned your head to Nat and Wanda who were clearly enjoying the show. You rolled your eyes, a small smirk curved your lips.

“He tried, but I can save myself.”

“Oh, really?” Bucky replied, amused. “If I remember well,  _you_  put yourself in this-” he gestured to the space between you, “-situation.”

He waited, hands on his hips, for one of your witty comebacks, but you just crossed your arms and turned your head. After a few minutes of agonizing silence, he huffed out a frustrated sigh and urged you to follow him.

“Lead the way,” Bucky said, stuffing his metal hand into his suit pocket. “I want to see this  _Captain America_.”

“We can’t go back there?”

“Why not?”

“First, because you walk like you’re on a runway. Humans don’t strut, they walk,” you said and he gave you an exasperated look. “Second, what are you going to do to him?” You eyed him suspiciously.

“If there’s a new hero in town, I need to know what they look like.”

He fell into steps beside you, matching your pace. After only a few minutes, you pointed at an alley across the street. Rumlow was sitting in the back of a police car while the officers thanked Steve.They should be thanking you, but never mind.

You and Bucky hid behind a parked car to observe them. His solid, muscular chest pressed against your back. He was surprisingly warm for someone who lived in the Underworld.

“I won’t be able to steal Rumlow’s heart if they take him to the station.”

“I’ll send Nat,” Bucky spoke close to your ear, sending a strange tingle up your spine.

Two men rushed toward Steve. One of them had blue hair, shaved on the sides, and styled in a Mohawk. Even from where you stood, you could see that his blue hair had faded a bit and his dirty blond roots were showing. The second man was talking animatedly while Steve looked down at his feet.

“Captain America is the blond,” you told Bucky.

You tilted your head to look at him. He was staring menacingly at the man who was still shouting at Steve. You caught a bit of their conversation.  _“Rule number one: a hero is only as good as his weapon! Where is your shield?”_

“Sam Wilson,” Bucky muttered through clenched teeth.

“Who’s Sam Wilson?”

“The trainer of heroes,” Bucky replied without looking away from Sam. “If he’s training a new one, I wouldn't give much for his chances.”

“Is that a threat?” you asked with furrowed brows.

Bucky straightened his suit and smoothed his hand over his tie. He held his gaze straight ahead and his head held high.

“No, darlin’, it’s a promise.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Language, Angst, Slaves, Shape-shifting, Mythology, Jealousy…

 

A couple of weeks after the incident in the alley, you stood in line at Starbucks. While you waited, you glanced around the coffee shop. It was a typical busy day and the place was packed. You pulled out your phone and scrolled through your news feed to pass the time. Your eyes widened when you saw the headline.

_“Notorious criminal dubbed ‘Crossbones’ found dead in cell.”_

When the barista called your name, you snapped back to attention. You took your coffee and found a table near the front door. You set your cup and purse down on the table and read the article. The last sentence sent a chill down your spine.

_“…an autopsy will be performed to determine the cause of death.”_

You cursed under your breath. Your anxiety spiked so suddenly that your vision got blurry. You tried to calm your pounding heart, focusing on your breathing, when a man in his late fifties plopped down in the seat across from yours. You looked up at him, your eyebrows knitted together in confusion and annoyance.

“Mind if I take a sip?” He reached for your cup of coffee.

“Sir, I think you should leave,” you warned firmly.

He giggled.

You had never heard a man giggle before. Your heartbeat returned to normal and you took a minute to observe the man. He smiled sweetly, flipping his imaginary hair over his shoulder.

“Long time no see,” he said, propping his elbow on the table and resting his cheek on his hand. “It’s dull when you don’t play with us.”

He pouted.

You sighed, recognising the Fury. “Okay, which one are you?”

“The cute one,” he replied, grinning as he took another sip of your coffee.

“Wanda,” you hissed quietly, “what are you doing here?”

“Aw, you think I’m cute.” The man wiggled his brows.

“Nat would never call herself _the cute one_.” You glanced around to make sure no one was listening. “Rumlow’s dead. What the hell did you do?”

“The Lord crushed his heart.” The man shrugged. “Why are you so upset? He was a piece of garbage.”

“Because they’re planning an autopsy!” You tried to keep your voice low. “Wanda, Rumlow doesn’t have a heart, what do you think the coroner will say when they’ll cut him up?”

“Relax,” he sighed. “Why do you think I took the appearance of this white know-it-all dude? I used a scalpel, pretended to be in deep thought and said stuff like ‘ _Cardiac arrest, he died on the spot_.’”

“And that’s it?” you asked and the man shrugged again.

“Yup. Life’s easy when you’re a white dude, and that’s the gospel truth.” He got up from his seat and urged you to follow him. “Come on, we have a new assignment. It’s gonna be fun!”

You reluctantly grabbed your bag and headed for the doors. As you both passed the doors, Wanda shape-shifted back into herself. You scolded her, someone might have seen her using her powers.

You let Wanda lead the way while she explained the basics of your new mission. Your part was simple. All you had to do was find Captain America and beg for help. You didn’t want to do it, but you couldn’t say no. Your soul belonged to the Lord of the Underworld, you had to obey his wishes.

Once you reached an abandoned building, Wanda ran inside while you waited for the signal. People walked past you without paying attention to their surroundings. You crossed your arms and looked up at the façade of the building.

A little girl, most likely Wanda, crawled out of the apartment window and walked along the edge. Nobody seemed to notice that a child was trying to climb onto the roof to rescue a cat. You could have sworn that the cat winked at you.

 _Urgh, Nat_ , you thought.

The little girl lost her footing and fell off the roof. It was completely staged and you had to admit Wanda was a good actress. Her cries alarmed passers-by. Some people pulled out their phones and started recording while others stared wide-eyed as the ‘little girl’ tightly gripped a window frame.

You figured this was the signal.

“Help! Please! She’s going to fall,” you screamed at the passers-by, pushing past them to find the superhero.

Captain America ran toward the building when he saw you. You noticed that his suit was different, more elaborate than his booty shorts and leggings. The dark blue suit moulded itself to his body. For a brief moment, you forgot what you were supposed to say.

“What happened?” he urged.

“Thank goodness, Captain America,” you sighed, clutching his arm to steady yourself. “The little girl, she tried to save her cat, but she fell. She’s going to die!”

Without wasting any more time, Captain America took your hand. You practically had to jog to keep up with him as he navigated his way through the crowd. Once you reached the building, he dropped your hand and walked straight into the trap.

“Get outta there, you big lug, while you still can,” you muttered under your breath, eyes locked on the building.

Captain America managed to grab the little girl’s hand, but the child wouldn’t stop wiggling. He told her that he was here to save her, but failed to notice the small nod the child gave to the cat. The cat landed swiftly next to Captain America’s hand and bared its claws. He hissed in pain as the cat scratched his skin with its claws, threatening to throw him and the child off the roof.

Someone chuckled next to you.

The Lord of the Dead was standing next to you in his usual all-black suit. He looked straight ahead but, from the corner of his eye, he saw you stare at him.

“You’re a monster,” you said matter-of-factly.

“I’m no angel, but monster? It hurts my feelings, darlin’.” Bucky clutched at his heart in faux outrage.

“As if you were capable of feeling anything,” you replied, turning your head toward the building. “You’re going to kill him.”

“You think I want to kill him?” he asked more seriously.

“Why else would you do this?”

When he didn’t answer, you racked your brains for an explanation. Your first thought was that he was lying, but it made no sense. He didn’t have to justify his actions to you. To anyone.

He was the Lord of the Underworld, the God of Death. You were no one. You could think of only one explanation- he was afraid.

“You’re trying to scare him.” You took his lack of response as a cue to continue. “I’m right, aren’t I? You think this near-death experience will make him drop the shield. It’s never gonna work. He’s willing to sacrifice his life for a kid. He has no fear.”

The muscles in his jaw flexed as he clenched his teeth. “Stop talking.”

“I mean, have you seen his biceps?” you whistled. “He’s going to conquer the world. You can’t beat him. Nothing will stop him, he’s gonna-”

“STOP TALKING!” he shouted.

A few people turned to look at him in surprise, but he didn’t seem to care. He grabbed your shoulders and turned you to face him.

“You think you’re so clever, but you forget that gushing over men is what got you in this mess in the first place. You sold your soul to me to save your boyfriend’s life. And how does this creep thank you? By running off with some babe.” His eyes narrowed. “Learn from your mistakes and stop acting like a stupid, infatuated girl.”

You held his stare, determined to seem unaffected. He noticed how your nostrils flared and your lips tightened and realized he had gone too far. You tried to act like you didn’t care, but his words still cut deep into you. He considered apologizing, but he was too proud. Why would he, the Lord of the Underworld, apologize to you, his disobedient minion? Your staring contest was cut short by a loud cheer.

You both turned your heads as Captain America walked out of the building, holding the child _and_ the cat in his arms. Blood trickled down his hand from the scratches. The cat jumped out of his arms and ran away.

Your first instinct was to run toward him. Wanda, as the little girl, took advantage of his stunned reaction to escape and vanish into the crowd.

“Steve, you’re hurt.” You took his hand in yours and examined his wound.

“It’s nothing.” He linked his fingers through yours. You looked at your intertwined hands and gave him a sheepish smile. “You called me by my name.”

“I was worried,” you replied honestly.

You worried your bottom lip with your teeth and considered your next move. You could feel Bucky’s icy stare as you leaned closer to Steve so he could hear you over the roar of the crowd.

Bucky focused all his attention on you and watched your lips move as you spoke to Captain America. He couldn’t hear your voice, but he could read your lips. It wasn’t difficult, you seemed to be mouthing the words.

“Let’s get away from here.”

Bucky felt his blood boiling in his veins, his hands balling into fists. Smiling, Steve held your hand tightly and led you away from the crowd.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I died three times while writing this. I dedicate this one to the sun, kindly f*ck off. I hope you like this one, some fun stuff coming soon :)

 

You and Steve walked hand in hand down the street, enjoying the cool breeze. You knew you had angered Bucky, but you didn’t care. You would deal with him and his silly pride later. Right now, you wanted to enjoy your time with Steve. He was charming and, quite literally, perfect.

“I’ve got a friend who wants to meet you,” Steve said.

“You told your friends about me?” A slight blush crept up his cheeks, making you chuckle. “Relax, Cap. I’d love to meet your friends.”

He gave you the most beautiful smile you’d ever seen. It made your stomach do a pleasant flip. You felt your face heat and bashfully lowered your eyes.

 _It’s too cliché_ , you thought. _Get a grip, girl!_

You raised your head when you reached a restaurant. It wasn’t just any old restaurant; it was SHIELD. People queued outside for hours to get a table. You skipped the line and went straight to the bouncer. Steve held the door open and motioned you inside.

You stepped into a room so large that it didn’t seem that crowded. The restaurant had black mahogany tables and oak chairs with plush dark purple cushioned seats. The owner, a blond man in his late sixties, stood behind the bar, staring into space.

_Alexander Pierce._

You recognized him easily, everybody in town had heard of him. Pierce had given up a lucrative career as a financier to open a restaurant with his associate, Nick Fury. Their restaurant became the hottest spot in town and they became even richer.

“You alright?” Steve asked him as you approached.

Pierce closed his eyes, took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Lost a friend last night,” he said, a sad smile on his lips.

Steve touched his upper arm, offering comfort. “I’m really sorry.”

“Life’s full of surprises, huh?” Pierce said before he turned his attention to you. “Steve has told us so many good things about you.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” you replied, shaking his hand. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you,” he said, smiling sweetly. “Please, make yourself at home.”

You let Steve lead the way. The thick, dark purple curtains were all that separated the VIP section from the rest of the restaurant. The room felt more intimate than the main room. In the back, there were two pool tables and a dart board. You noticed that all the darts formed a circle in the centre of the board.

A waiter brought a bottle of red wine and poured a small amount in Steve’s glass. When Steve said it was good, the waiter poured the red liquid in two glasses.

“It’s delicious,” you said, licking your upper lip.

“They have some really good wine,” Steve agreed.

You set your glass down on the table. “Pierce seems like a nice person.”

Steve sighed. “Yeah, I’m worried about him though. His associate died a few weeks ago, he had a heart attack. Nick was his best friend. It really took its toll on him.”

“Two friends in a month? He must be devastated.” Your heart ached for the man. “How did you meet him?”

Steve shifted in his seat, a half smile curling one corner of his lips. You cocked a brow at him as you took another sip of wine.

“That’s why we’re here. I have something to tell you.” He waited until you nodded before continuing. “I’m not an ordinary man.”

He raised his hand, the long claw marks left by Nat were gone. You reached out and took his hand, examining it closely.

“How-”

“Told you, I heal fast.”

“But it happened two hours ago.” You raised your gaze in challenge and looked him straight in the eye. “What are you?”

His smile faded and his face fell serious. “I’m a demigod.”

Steve released a long sigh that seemed to deflate his entire body. He wasn’t good at keeping secret and now that you knew the truth about him, he felt like he could breathe again. Your gaze softened and you squeezed his hand.

“I knew you were special.”

“Y-You’re okay with this?” He tilted his head, looking like a lost puppy.

“If that’s who you are,” you shrugged, “who am I to judge you?”

“You’re something else.”

He looked at you in awe and you couldn’t but smile. You cleared your throat. “So, how did you meet Pierce?”

“He’s my guardian angel,” Steve said, still holding your hand. “And I mean that in the most literal sense of the word. Nick was one too, but they were completely different. Pierce can be too obliging and Nick was kind of hot-tempered. They were a great team, we were lucky to have them.”

You opened your mouth to ask a question when two men entered the VIP room. Steve looked over his shoulder and smiled at his friends. You straightened up in your seat as you observed them.

The man with an uncorrected gap between his front teeth looked up at you and nodded. You remembered him, Bucky had warned you about Sam. He walked over to you and held out his hand.

“Sam Wilson, trainer of heroes,” he said before he gestured at the man with blue Mohawk, “and that’s Clint.”

Clint rolled his eyes good-naturedly as he shook your hand. You suppressed the urge to fidget under Sam’s stare. He looked at you intently, seemingly waging a silent debate with himself.

“You’re the one who kicked Rumlow in the nuts, right?” Clint smirked when you nodded. He took Steve’s chair and turned it around before he sat down. “Good job, Nutcracker.”

Sam took the seat next to him as Steve rounded the table and slid into the chair beside you. He took your hand in his under the table so that nobody could see and looked sideways at you.

“Have you ever considered becoming a hero?” Sam asked. “I could train you.”

You looked up at him, expecting him to laugh. He didn’t.

“Me? I’m no hero.”

“When I met Steve, he was as skinny as a broomstick. Look at him now.” Sam jutted his chin toward Steve who rolled his eyes. “You’re brave and bold. We could use someone like you. Our new mission requires a bit more finesse and we’re…”

“-big guys,” Clint finished.

“Wait!” you said, frowning. “If Steve’s a demigod and Pierce is a guardian angel, what are you?”

Sam and Clint exchanged an amused look before they leaned over the table toward you. Instinctively, you sank further into your seat. Steve gave your hand a reassuring squeeze.

“I’m a Phoenix,” Sam said, cracking a smile, “and believe me, it comes in handy when your job is to train amateur heroes.”

You heard Steve mumbling something under his breath. Sam gave you a wink as he sat back in his seat. You turned your head to face Clint.

“If you laugh, I’ll kill you,” he said, his eyes narrowed.

“Don’t be a baby, Clint.” Sam grinned.

You knew it was an empty threat, but you still raised your free hand like you were taking an oath. From the corner of you eye, you could see Steve covering his mouth to stifle his laughter. Clint kicked his shin under the table.

“I’m a Cupid, the Messenger of Love.”

Sam and Steve bit their lips like they were trying not to laugh before they burst out laughing. Hysterical laughter filled the room and you chuckled quietly. It felt good to laugh again.

“And no I’m not one of those chubby, naked babies. But I do have arrows and they’re very sharp,” he warned, glaring at his friends.

“Okay, baby,” Sam chuckled before his face turned serious again. “Now, like I said, we need a new member. Our enemy is a _very_ powerful man.”

“He’s a God,” Steve chimed in, “and he’s as clever as he’s dangerous.”

You were sure Bucky would love the way they described him. The man had an ego the size of his kingdom. You listened carefully to Sam’s story.

During the battle for Olympus, Sam worked closely with the Gods. Their most ferocious enemy was the Lernaean Hydra; for every head chopped off, two more grew in its place. Unfortunately, the Hydra captured Bucky and turned him into a weapon to kill the Gods.

When Sam found him, it was too late. The other Gods said that for their own security they were obliged to lock him up. After the war, they freed his mind and gave him the Underworld –mostly because no one wanted to be locked in a cave for all eternity. They argued that he would never be the same again.

The Hydra tortured his body and his soul. He was a victim, but it didn’t change the fact that he made you do unspeakable things. Your heart constricted painfully, you couldn’t help but feel sorry for him.

“He has a group of demons stealing hearts for him,” Sam concluded, unaware that you were one of Bucky’s minions. “We have to free them, but we can’t do anything until we find the Underworld. Are you with us?”

This was your chance to make things right, to speak up and betray the man you sold your life to. You swallowed hard, your stomach churned, as you silently made your choice.

* * *

 “I will kill him,” Bucky shouted at the empty courtroom as he walked over to his throne. “No, better yet, I’ll make her rip his heart out of his chest and crush it.”

“Yikes,” Nat muttered.

She trailed after him, her face twisted in a grimace of disgust. Bucky sat on his throne, his foot tapping an impatient rhythm on the ground.

“You’ve acted like a jerk and you’re still acting like a jerk.”

“Watch your tongue,” Bucky hissed through gritted teeth.

“I’m sorry, but it’s true. If you could just talk to her-”Nat stopped talking as the ground trembled under her feet. “Never mind, I forgot you had a cold cold heart.”

She pretended to zip her mouth shut when he gave her another dirty look. After a short moment of silence, Natasha started humming the tune to Tony Bennett’s _Cold Cold Heart_. Bucky was about to lose his temper again, when he heard Wanda’s frantic footsteps.

“So?” he asked, unable to contain himself any longer. “Did you see them?”

Wanda came to a halt next to Nat. She bent at the waist and rested her hands on her knees as she worked to catch her breath. Bucky took a deep breath, trying not to show his impatience.

“I saw her and Captain America. He took her to SHIELD,” Wanda said, her brows furrowed in worry. “She met Pierce.”

Bucky stared at his metal hand, hiding his emotions from his servants. Anger coursed through him like poison, quickly followed by fear. Nat and Wanda observed him, their hearts pounding.

“What are you going to do?”

“That will be all,” he sighed, dismissing the Furies with a wave of his hand.

The Furies exchanged panicked glances, they knew exactly what he had in mind.

“No, please, my Lord,” Nat begged. “Don’t do it, I like her.”

“My decision is final,” he replied, avoiding their pleading eyes. “Now leave.”


	5. Chapter 5

 

Sitting on the edge of the basin that surrounded the Bethesda fountain, you looked up at the statue and tilted your head to one side, analysing it. The winged angel carried lilies in one hand as she pointed in your direction.

You walked past it almost every day, but you never took the time to look at it. Now that you knew angels were real, you wondered she had ever existed. You stared at it, your eyes intense, feeling like the statue was taunting you.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you told the statue, “not everyone can be an angel.”

You knew it was stupid to talk to a statue, but she looked so perfect and pure and you were the complete opposite. Huffing out a breath, you looked around, scanning the area when you locked eyes with the man who broke your heart and cursed your soul.

Your heart nearly stopped.

Peter Quill stared back at you, a tentative smile lifted the corners of his lips. He waved his hand in your direction and the sun caught a ring on his fourth finger. You held your breath.

_He was married._

He seemed to be mouthing a word, but your mind was elsewhere. It could have been ‘ _sorry’_  or maybe ‘ _hello’._  The brunette standing next to him balanced her child on her hip as she wrapped her free arm around his waist.

_He had a child._

You felt sick. You closed your eyes shut and tried a breathing exercise. Unfortunately, it didn’t calm your anxiety. Instead, your brain kept replaying the events of the day you sold your soul.

> _You knelt in front of the God of Death, the ground cold and unforgiving under your knees, as you begged him to save your boyfriend’s life. He stayed silent for a long moment and you deliberately made yourself look smaller, hoping it would tug on his heartstrings._
> 
> _“Why should I save him?”_
> 
> _“Huh?” you replied lamely._
> 
> _“See, your boyfriend is supposed to die, his time has come. I can’t bend the rules for him, unless you give me something in exchange.” He got up from his throne and walked over to you. “Look around you. I own this place, I’m a God.”_
> 
> _You held your breath as his shoes came into view. A metallic finger hooked under your chin, dragging your gaze up. His blue eyes shone with excitement._
> 
> _“A life for a life, darlin’. That’s the deal.”_
> 
> _“My life?”_
> 
> _He nodded. You took the metal hand he offered and got to your feet. The two demons who brought you to him were waiting behind you; the redhead was carrying a quill while the brunette was holding a piece of paper. You kept your eyes on the God as you took the quill._
> 
> _His gaze swept over you as you read the contract. Taking a deep breath, you put the end of the quill against the paper and wrote your name. The scratch of the quill against the parchment made you shiver._
> 
> _“Excellent!” he beamed. “You now belong to me. If I say ‘jump’, you jump. If I say, ‘sing,’ you say, ‘hey, name that tune.’ And if you disobey, there will be consequences.”_
> 
> _You rushed back to the hospital that day, relieved when the nurse told you that Peter made an unexpected recovery. At least you hadn't sell your soul for nothing._
> 
> _Until…_
> 
> _Two months later, you came home from a secret assignment and Peter was waiting for you, his suitcase packed and waiting by the door. He fell in love with someone else – the nurse you both befriended- and decided he didn’t love you anymore._
> 
> _You stared, slack-jawed, at Peter as he walked past you and gave a condescending pat on your shoulder. He left and you were still cursed. You curled yourself into a ball and cried yourself to sleep right there on the floor._

“Breathe!” someone urged you, shaking you from your unpleasant thoughts. You heard that same voice calling your name and you took a deep breath. “You okay? It looked like you were holding your breath.”

You blinked twice and gradually became aware of your surroundings. Steve sat next to you, worry etched on his face. Closing your eyes, you let your heartbeat return to normal. When you opened them again, you noticed that Peter and his family were gone.

“What are you doing here?”

“You sent me a text, remember? ‘ _Bethesda fountain, 2pm’_ ,” Steve pulled out his phone and read your message. “You don’t look fine.”

After the meeting with Sam, you decided to take some time to process everything. He had offered you a spot on his team, unaware that you were working for Bucky.

Bucky collected hearts and you didn’t know why. No one knew, not even his most trusted henchwomen. You couldn’t save the hearts on your own; you needed help. Strangely, you didn’t want to betray Bucky, but it was probably your only opportunity to prove yourself as a hero.

You had to tell Steve that you were working for Bucky, but the thought of losing him was unbearable. You really liked him.

“Steve, I have something to tell you,” you blurted out.

He took your hand and let his thumb rub over your knuckles. He looked at you, his eyes twinkling with kindness. It gave you the strength to continue.

“I can take you to the Underworld-”

“What?!” he nearly shouted.

“Please, let me explain. I need to tell you the whole story.” He nodded, so you continued. “I work for the God of Death, I’m one of his servants.”

You held his gaze, afraid he’d withdraw his hand. He didn’t. 

“I sold my soul to him in exchange for my boyfriend’s life, but then my boyfriend left me for another woman. I know this doesn’t change the fact that I lied to you, but I know the Underworld like the back of my hand. I know where he keeps the hearts. I can help you, I  _want_ to help.”

Steve remained quiet for a long time and you let him process the information for a moment. He stared into space with glassy eyes before he let out a shuddering breath.

“So,” he cleared his throat, “you steal hearts for him?”

“Yes, but only because he owns me. I have to do as he says.”

“How do I know this isn’t a trap? How do I know you’re not going to lead me to the Underworld and trap me there?”

“You don’t,” you conceded, cupping his face in your hands. “Steve, when I’m with you, I don’t feel so alone.”

“I-I don’t know if I can trust you anymore-” he whispered, lowering his gaze.

“I understand,” you said, resting your forehead against his.

“-but,” he cracked a smile, his big hands cupping your jaw, “you have me wrapped around your fingers. Let’s start over. No more lies.”

“Okay, but Sam-”

“Yeah, he won’t be happy, but I can’t help it. I think I’m falling for you.”

* * *

The Furies stood on each side of the throne as Bucky sat down. They implored him to reconsider his decision, but he waved them off. His stomach flipped when he saw you enter the throne room. He couldn’t keep his breathing even as he watched you walk toward him.

“You wanted to see me?” you asked, clearly unhappy.

Bucky noticed a small smile flicker across your face and he knew you had spent the day with Steve. He loathed the man, but he had bigger problems to deal with.

“Remember this?” he asked, making a piece of parchment appear in his hand.

Even from a distance, you could tell what it was. The first and last time you saw it was the day you sold your soul to him. You could even see your signature on the contract, the golden letters glistened in the dim light.

“Of course you do,” Bucky chuckled, before reading out loud. “ _I hereby grant unto the Lord of the Underworld one life for all eternity in exchange for_ blah blah blah…”

“If you’re going to punish me for running away with Steve then do it now, I don’t have all day.”

He smiled. Your impertinence both impressed and infuriated him. Everyone was terrified of him, except you. His smile turned sad as he raised his head.

“So you’re calling him by his name now? What happened to ‘ _Captain America’_?”

“He’s so much more than that.”

Bucky got up from his throne and strutted over to you, his eyes never leaving yours. You swallowed hard, ready to take whatever punishment he saw fit. He was a few steps away from you and your heart was jackhammering in your chest.

He stopped, looked at you with a strange smile and ripped up the contract.

Unable to speak, you watched the two sheets of paper fall to the ground. You raised your gaze to meet his eyes. You must have looked completely baffled because Bucky’s smile faded.

“I’m free?” you asked, blinking fast. Bucky nodded. “Why?”

“Why?” he scoffed. “I’m giving you the thing you crave the most in the entire cosmos and you’re still not happy?”

“…but you own me.”

“Owned, the contract is broken,” he reminded you. “Listen, I don’t have time to keep an eye on you. You’re stubborn, irresponsible, reckless and I have important things to do.”

The words left a bitter taste in his mouth. He didn’t mean to be so harsh, but breaking the contract was the only way to protect you. If Pierce knew you were working for him, he’d hurt you to get to him. And if Pierce knew what you truly meant to Bucky, he’d kill you without remorse or hesitation.

He may have frozen Bucky’s heart a long time ago, but Bucky could feel it in his guts. He didn’t know exactly what it was, but he knew he had to protect you.

You bowed your head sadly, you had to admit that his words touched you, hurt you. He never saw you as anything more than a servant. The thought made your chest tighten painfully.

Bucky looked over his shoulder and saw the Furies standing near his throne. They both had their arms crossed, their faces twisted into sullen scowls. They childishly stuck their tongues out at him before they left the room, leaving him alone with you.

“I-uh, I thought you wanted your freedom.”

The tone in his voice made you raise your head, a crease between your brows. You had never heard him sound so insecure before. He fidgeted under your gaze and you knew something was wrong. He was always so self-assured, so in control.

“Are you trying to be nice?” you asked, tilting your head.

“No, I-I’m just…” Bucky stuttered lamely. He noticed the amused smile on your face and groaned loudly. “Just shut up, okay? I’m not nice, I’m the God of  _Death_.”

“Uh-huh,” you replied, unimpressed.

“Anyway,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, “I don’t want to see you here again, not until you’re a hundred. Go live your life.”

You gauged his expression as he spoke. His nervousness made you grin, yet there was a part of you that didn’t want it to end. You looked around the throne room one last time, feeling a bit nostalgic. You would never admit it, but you were going to miss this place. You gave Bucky a small nod and started to turn. As you walked away from him, tears welled up in your eyes. You let them fall down your cheeks, not sure if those were happy tears or sad tears.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the usual + /!\ Torture, Blood, Death! /!\  
> I hate warnings, they spoil all the fun… Sorry, I don’t know what’s going on in my brain, but I enjoy drama lol Enjoy, lovely cupcakes :)

 

Two weeks after you last saw Bucky, you were getting ready for your meeting with Sam and his team when you heard a lot of giggling and chattering in the hallway. You rolled your eyes, recognizing the voice of the two Furies.

“What do you want?” you asked defensively as you swung the door open.

“Missed us?”

Wanda pressed her cheek against Nat’s and they both gave you their best innocent smile. When you didn’t answer, they bat their eyelashes at you.

“Not at all,” you sighed. “What are you doing here?”

They invited themselves into your apartment; Nat went straight to the fridge while Wanda sat at the counter that separated the kitchen and the living room. You slammed the door shut as a reminder that they were not welcome. They didn’t seem to care.

“In case you forgot, I’m free. This means we don’t have to see each other anymore.”

Nat and Wanda turned to look at you. They stood composed, not a hint of amusement or playfulness on their faces. If anything, they looked hurt.

“You didn’t say goodbye,” Wanda murmured.

“What?”

“You left without saying goodbye,” Nat said, walking back to the dining table. She gave you a tight-lipped smile, her eyes never leaving yours. “You really don’t like us, do you?”

“You’re demons, not my friends.”

Wand’s mouth fell open in indignation and you quickly avoided her sad eyes. Nat snickered, taking a seat.

“You think you’re so superior, but guess what, I used to be just like you. You think we were born Furies? You’re so wrong.”

“Nat, don’t,” Wanda pleaded, but Nat raised a hand, stopping her.

“No, she has to know.”

Snapping her chin up, Wanda huffed forcefully. She turned her head to stare out the window, unable to keep her eyes on you or Nat. She didn’t need a reminder of how broken she was. It was hard enough to live an immortal life without the only person she truly loved.

Nat cleared her throat and began her story. She was born in 1840 in Votkinsk where she became one of the most acclaimed ballerina of her generation. She had men swooning over her, but she fell in love with the wrong one.

He was funny, sassy, sarcastic… her ideal guy, but he had a secret. Her perfect boyfriend was a cherub, a cupid in training, and when his superiors cruelly forced him to choose between his work and her, he chose his job.

Wanda had heard her scream and offered her help. She turned Nat into a fury to appease her suffering. Wanda lost her twin brother during the war for Olympus. She said that the pain so unbearable that it turned her into a vengeful monster.

When they found you, crying and begging for your boyfriend’s life, they decided to bring you to the Lord. They believed that you and your boyfriend were soulmates, true love and all that crap. And boy, they were wrong.

You plopped down into a chair and stared off into space, unshed tears burning behind your eyes. Nat was right, you acted like you were better than them. You didn’t know what to say and you felt like an idiot. It wasn’t Peter’s fault you had sold your soul, it wasn’t even Bucky’s fault; it was yours. Bucky gave you a choice and you decided to sign the contract.

The time had come to own up to your mistakes and accept responsibility for your actions. It was the only way you could move on with your life.

“You think demons can’t show affection? Sweetie, we’ve had our hearts broken so badly it changed us. Kindness is something mortals take for granted. We know what it’s like to lose everything and we show mercy to those who suffer.”

“And we know what love looks like,” Nat chimed in, “even if you refuse to see it.”

That made you raise your head. Nat noticed your confused expression and grinned.

“We both know you and Captain America have nothing in common. He’s too perfect, and deep down you know he’s not good for you. He’s boring, too vanilla.”

“Oh, really?” You felt anger surge through you. Steve was honest and sweet, and he would never do anything to hurt you.

“Yeah,  _really_ ,” Nat mocked. “The man you want has seen things you wouldn’t believe. He needs you as much as you need him. You’re not the only person in the world –or Underworld- who’s been hurt.”

“What are you implying? Bucky doesn’t have feelings for me.”

“He does.”

“You’re crazy,” you huffed out a laugh, avoiding her eyes.

“He doesn’t want to admit it because it scares him. He’s seen what pure evil looks like.”

“And what does pure evil look like?” You rolled your eyes.

“Alexander Pierce.”

“The guardian angel?” you almost shrieked. “You’re out of your mind.”

“He’s not a guardian angel, he’s the Hydra. Pierce fooled everyone, including your  _Captain America_. The Lord wants to protect you. Why do you think he broke your contract?”

You scoffed, “He did it because he was tired of me. He said I was stubborn, irresponsible and reckless.”

“Well, he’s not wrong,” Wanda snickered. “Doesn’t mean he’s not trying to protect you.”

“He has weird ways of showing affection,” you mumbled.

“Yup, having a frozen heart does that to a man.” Nat shrugged, crossing the room. She pretended not to see your sudden interest and opened the front door.

“He has a frozen heart? Is that a metaphor or-”

“Stay away from Pierce, he’s dangerous,” Nat advised, cutting you off and avoiding your question.

The Furies closed the door, leaving you alone with your thoughts. Could she be telling the truth? You had a sickening feeling in your stomach as you got ready for your meeting. So Bucky had feelings for you? That was completely insane, but more importantly, did you like him?

You had always believed that if he made your breathing hitch, your blood boil and your heart race, it was because you hated him. Yet, you couldn’t deny that you missed his stupid face. You’d never admit it out loud, but you grew fond of him.

It was so wrong and you began to wonder if you were experiencing Stockholm syndrome. You knew victims could become attached to their captor, but this felt different. 

Bucky never hurt you, even when you failed or disobeyed an order. Stealing hearts gave you a wonderful feeling of power, like you were finally taking back control of your life.You were certainly not perfect and he accepted you for who you were. 

Nat was right, you liked Steve, but he was too perfect and you barely knew him.

Swallowing tickly, you decided to keep an eye on Pierce during the meeting… just in case. You arrived at Shield with ten minutes to spare. You pulled out your phone to text Steve. He texted back ‘ _I’ll be there in 5_.”

* * *

Inside the restaurant, Bucky stood stiff as a board while Pierce let his gaze swept over him. Bucky kept his head high and his posture erect. Pierce saw right through him, a slow smile spreading over his thin lips. Bucky thought he could keep you out of harm’s way, but Pierce would have none of that.

“So, what do you say? Shall we call a truce?” Bucky asked impatiently, drumming his fingers on the edge of the bar.

“A truce?” Pierce laughed like it was the funniest joke he had ever heard. “This isn’t why I called you here. I want the Underworld. I don’t care what the other gods decided, the Underworld belongs to me.”

“In the past, maybe,” Bucky shrugged, “now it’s mine.”

Pierce stayed silent, his cold blue eyes locked on Bucky’s face. As his anxiety mounted, Bucky’s breathing quickened. It reminded him of their first encounter centuries ago.

Bucky’s thoughts carried him away to the room where he had been tortured. He shivered as he remembered the excruciating pain and the taste of the poison. Pierce cackled as Bucky started to shiver.

“Remembering the good old days?”

“I wouldn’t call them that,” Bucky grunted.

“Do me a favor and give up now before it’s too late,” Pierce sighed, his voice surprisingly gentle. A cold shiver ran down Bucky’s spine. “I killed Nick, you killed Brock, don’t make me to do it again. Contrary to popular belief, I don’t like getting my hands dirty.”

“Go to Hell.”

“If only you’d let me,” Pierce grinned, filling two glasses with what looked like wine. “Oh, by the way, I like that girl who works for you. She’s been an incredible help and told us all your little secrets. Actually she’s on her way as we speak. Tonight, she’ll tell us where we can find the Underworld and I’ll take back my kingdom. These four buffoons will be dead before sunrise.”

“If you touch her-” Realizing he said too much, Bucky clamped his mouth shut

“Is your heart melting?” Pierce laughed softly. He handed Bucky a glass, then set it on the counter when Bucky refused to take it. “It’s endearing, but you know exactly what I can do to your little protégée. Back off and I won’t hurt her. You have one minute to decide.”

As Bucky quickly considered his options, his stomach heaved. He never wanted the Underworld, but giving it up would have terrible consequences. Pierce would only bring chaos. Still, the thought of losing you was too much to bear.

Pierce started counting down. Five, four, three…

“Deal!” Bucky shouted. “The Underworld is yours, but you don’t touch her. Never.”

Pierce raised his glass. “Always a pleasure doing business with you.”

With a glare, Bucky took a sip of the thick red liquid, realizing too late that it wasn’t wine. It burnt down his throat, sending waves of pain up and down his body. Bucky fell to his knees, his body shaking violently.

“I must say, my venom is delicious. Like fine wine it improves with age, wouldn’t you agree?” Pierce licked his lips and put his now-empty glass on the counter.

Pierce yanked out an adamantine dagger he had hidden beneath his shirt and hauled Bucky to his feet. The God cried out in pain as his body fought against the poison.

“I said I wouldn’t hurt her, but you? You will die tonight.” He waved the dagger under his nose. “Steve found this on a mission. Poor guy didn’t know what it was; a weapon that can cut into immortal flesh.”

* * *

Outside the restaurant, you heard a sharp scream and whirled in place. You walked over to the front door and looked through the French windows.

Bucky feel to his knees, visibly in pain, as Pierce walked calmly toward him. He taunted him with a small dagger, laughing when Bucky tried to push him away. Your blood ran cold as you watched Bucky fight for his life.

You reached out and tried the doorknob. It was unlocked.

You burst through the doors and screamed, throwing yourself between Pierce and Bucky. A sharp pain shot through your stomach, forcing the air from your lungs. Pierced twisted the knife and smirked when it made you yelp.

You fell into Bucky’s open arms, your face twisted in disgust as blood rushed out of the wound. Bucky was still in a lot of pain, but managed to cradle you against him as you both fell to the ground. He pressed his hand over your wound in a feeble attempt to save your life, hot blood gushing through his fingers.

“No, no, no, no,” he chanted when your eyes fluttered closed.

The pain was gone, you just wanted to close your eyes and sleep. Gathering all your strength, you reached out and touched his jaw with your fingertips.

“I’m sorry.”

Bucky screamed, the sound bounced off the walls, as he rocked you back and forth in his arms. Tears fell freely and rolled down his cheeks. Pierce looked at him with a soft, creepy smile and squatted down in front of him.

“This is even better. When the others will walk through that door,” he said, jutting his thumb over his shoulder, “they’ll think you killed your precious darling girl.”

Bucky looked up at him through red-rimmed eyes, unconsciously holding you tighter against him.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the usual warnings...  
> Happy Bastille Day to those who celebrate it :)

 

Bucky kept you against his chest and pressed his forehead against yours, begging you to wake up. Pierce threw the bloody knife at his feet and the blade stuck to the ground. From the corner of his eye, he noticed Steve, Sam and Clint outside the restaurant. The three heroes warily entered the room, their eyes scanning the area.

“I was too late to save her,” Pierce said solemnly. “He killed her.”

Sam observed Bucky for a moment, searching his face for any sign of guilt. He watched as Bucky’s arm wrapped around your torso, his freed hand cupping the side of your face, smearing blood on your cheek.

“He’s crying,” he said, raising his head to look at Pierce. “What happened?”

“She was trying to protect me and he killed her.”.

Sam’s posture suddenly stiffened and his brows furrowed. Something felt off. Pierce was too calm, too composed. He opened his mouth to ask more questions when Clint collapsed on the ground next to him.

“What the-”

He turned around and saw two angry-looking girls on the threshold of the restaurant. A red mist swirled around Wanda’s fingers before it launched itself at Steve and Sam, sending them to the ground. She used that same red energy to immobilize Pierce. He was no match for an extra angry Fury.

“We gotta go.” Nat walked over to Bucky.

“How did you find me?” he asked without looking up.

“We heard you scream,” Nat said, squatting next to him so she could look in his eye. “We can’t let mortals see this mess.”

“I just wanted to protect her.” Bucky tightened his hold on you.

“She’s gone,” Nat said, tilting his chin up so he would look at her. “We gotta go back to the Underworld.”

Bucky waited a few seconds before he stood up with you cradled in his arms. His stomach dropped when he noticed how limp you felt in his arm. He took a deep breath and assessed the situation quickly. He ordered the Furies to send Pierce and the others to Tartarus and call the Fates.

* * *

You stood in the middle of the antechamber of the Underworld, not knowing how you got there. Pale ghosts wandered aimlessly around you. The ferryman raised his head when he saw someone standing near his boat, his eyes goggling as he belatedly recognized you.

“Scott, I have no idea what I’m doing here. I need to see Bucky, is he in his palace?” you asked, your brows knitted together in perplexity. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Look at your hands.”

You brought your hands up, turned your palms upwards and lowered your gaze. Instinctively, you tried to take a step back and cursed out loud. Your skin was transparent, you could see through your hands.

“I’m dead?”

“Looks like it.” Scott rubbed the back of his head. “You don’t have a coin, do you?”

It felt weird to ask. He had repeated that same dumb joke almost every day for three years, knowing you didn’t need a coin to cross the river since you were working for Bucky. Things were different now, if you didn’t have a coin, you were destined to live in the antechamber forever.

“No,” you said quietly.

“You have to stay here.”

“I know.”

You stared at each other for a long moment before the soul of an old woman handed him a coin and climbed into the boat.

“I have to go,” Scott said apologetically. “I’m so sorry.”

You watched him leave with a heavy heart. A dull ache in your stomach pulled you out of your thoughts. You suddenly remembered everything; how Bucky fell to his knees, how Pierce was about to kill him and how you sacrificed your life to save him.

Again…

“I’m so fucking dumb,” you muttered to yourself.

“Welcome to the club.”

The deep voice startled you and you whirled around to face the man standing behind you. He was tall, bald and wore an eye-patch over his right eye. He was as transparent as you were.

“Nick Fury,” he introduced himself. You opened your mouth to tell him your name, but he stopped you. “I know who you are. You worked for the God of Death.”

“I know you, too,” you replied. “Steve told me you were his guardian angel, but he also told me Pierce was a guardian angel and that was bullshit.”

“Steve doesn’t know everything,” Nick sighed. “I always knew Pierce was evil, but I wasn’t powerful enough to kill him myself. He heals himself like some motherfucking worm.”

You smiled to yourself, then asked, “You didn’t die of a heart attack, did you?”

Nick stared at you for a second before his lips parted in a half smile. He shook his head and took a deep breath, looking around him, his new home for all eternity.

“Pierce came to my house with a bottle of wine, said he wanted to celebrate the success of our mission. I thought I had the upper hand, but he knew I was plotting against him. Got tricked into drinking his poison.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He shook his head. “I guess I had it coming. Karma’s a bitch, right?”

“What do you mean?”

“I know you worked for the Lord because he works –well worked- for me.”

“What?”

“Together we created an army of heartless people ready to fight the Hydra. Pierce practically built this city, no one in their right mind would turn against him, but without their hearts…” He cut himself off when he saw the look on your face. “I know what you’re thinking, but desperate times call for desperate measures. What were we supposed to do?”

“I don’t know,” you interrupted him, “but forcing people to fight for freedom is a fucking joke.”

“We were drafting soldiers, sort of, but it wasn’t the plan. Look, it’s called compartmentalization. Nobody spills the secrets because nobody knows them all.”

“Except you.”

Nick smiled. “The only one powerful enough to stop Pierce is Wanda. She has powers that are beyond anything imaginable, I just needed a strong emotion to trigger them. I didn’t know you had feelings for  _him_. You were not supposed to die and I’m sorry-”

“Oh, yeah great, thanks,” you scoffed, moving away from him, “like it’s going to bring me back to life.”

* * *

Nat stepped into the Bucky’s private room and watched as he laid you down on a table covered with a red velvet cloth. She walked over to Wanda and put a hand on her shoulder, both of them watching Bucky as he put a cushion under your head.

“You okay?” Nat asked her friend.

“Last time I used that kind of energy was when my brother died,” Wanda muttered, a sombre look on her face. “I don’t think I can do it again.”

“It’s over now.”

“How about you?” Wanda turned her head to look at Nat. “I mean, seeing Clint again after all these years.”

“I’m fine.” Nat shrugged. “Now we’re both immortal, but we can never be together.”

Wanda took her hand and squeezed it hard. Nat glanced at Wanda sideways and smiled. At least they had each other. Taking a deep breath, Nat cleared her throat.

“My Lord, the Fates are here.” When he seemed reluctant to let go of your hand, she added, “I’ll stay with her, I promise.”

Bucky straightened himself up to his full height, his jaw set in a tight clench. He motioned for Wanda to follow him and they both walked hurriedly to the throne room.

The three Fates stood with their arms crossed expectantly. No one wanted to mess with these women, they controlled the fates of humans and gods. Maria spun the thread of life, Sharon decided how long the thread ought to be and Peggy cut the thread with her shears.

“Ladies,” Bucky greeted curtly, his nostrils flaring. “I know you have a lot of work to do, lots of people to kill-”

“Is this about the girl who just died?”

“You know damn well it is,” Bucky said, his voice rising. “You said Pierce would die and she’d live forever by my side. You gave me your word.”

“And we kept our word. The Hydra will die over and over again, trapped in Tartarus, and the girl will live in the Underworld forever.”

“She’s dead!” Bucky shouted, making the walls shake. 

“I know,” Peggy replied, waving her shears and the broken thread that represented your life.

Wanda took a few steps forward and put her hands on her hips, trying to impress the three Fates.

“There must be a way to bring her back.” She looked at them with admiration. “I’m a big fan of your work. You’re so cool!”

The three Fates shuffled their feet in embarrassment, their cheeks turned a deeper shade of red at her words. Wanda nudged Bucky and winked at him. His expression softened a little, but his eyes were still narrowed.

“Well, there is something we could try,” Sharon fought back a grin as a golden thread appeared in her hand. “This, my Lord, is your life.”

Bucky held his breath as she held out the tarnished gold thread. Mortals had simple, thin black threads that were easily broken. Immortal creatures had thick golden threads, and while Bucky’s thread had taken a few hits, it was still unbreakable.

Sharon wrapped your broken thread around his and secured it with a tight knot.

“What now?” Bucky asked, his patience running thin.

“Now,” Maria sighed, “you need to find her perfect match.”

“Perfect match?”

“Her true love,” Peggy chimed in, rolling her eyes.

“Oh,” Wanda clapped her hands excitedly, jumping up and down. “It’s like in Sleeping Beauty, or Snow White, or… well pretty much every Disney movie actually.”

It was Bucky’s turn to roll his eyes. He never really believed in true love, let alone true love’s kiss.

“The purest magic is true love,” Peggy explained, “and it’s as rare as it is beautiful. Only a kiss from her one true love will awaken her.”

“Her life will merge with yours and she will live forever. This does not mean you’ll be her true love, but you have to be willing to share your immortality,” Maria added.

“It means that ever though you will both live forever, you will also experience pain like a regular mortal,” Sharon ended.

The three Fates laughed loudly as they disappeared in a cloud of dark grey smoke. Wanda coughed a few times, using her hand to fan herself before she took Bucky’s metal hand and made him follow her.

“What are you doing?” He tugged on her hand to turn her to face him.

“You heard what the three crones said,” Wanda replied, regaining her balance. “You have to kiss her, she’ll wake up and you’ll live together for ever.”

“How daft do think I am? True love?! My life is an endless succession of losses,” he sighed, walking past her. “Go get Steve, he’s her true love, not me.”

As Bucky stepped into his room, he saw that Nat had cleaned you up and changed you out of your bloody clothes. He gave her a small smile and walked over to you, taking your hand in his. Nat stepped back and took a seat behind him. She propped her elbow on her knee and rested her chin in her palm.

Wanda entered the room and stomped her foot on the ground. “She doesn’t love Steve!”

“Bring him here,” Bucky hissed at her.

“Fine,” Wanda let out a huff of frustration, “then can we go play with Pierce?” The question was innocent, but she had a wicked smile on her face.

“Have fun,” Bucky replied, smiling to himself.

“Oh, we will,” Nat laughed, joining Wanda near the door.

She observed Bucky silently as he leaned closer to you and muttered, ‘ _Why did you do this?_ ’ to your lifeless body. She cleared her throat, smiling when he glanced over his shoulder at her.

“You know, people do crazy things… when they’re in love.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the feedback! There's an epilogue coming this Sunday. Hope you like this chapter :)

 

“People do crazy things… when they’re in love.”

Nat gave Bucky a curt nod as she slowly closed the door. He stared at the closed door for a long moment, trying to understand the meaning behind her words.

Was she taunting him? Surely you couldn’t have sacrificed your life unless you truly loved him. He started pacing back and forth as he talked to himself.

“You are, by far,  _the_  most stubborn person I have  _ever_  met,” Bucky groaned, talking to your lifeless body. “If I say ‘ _black’_ , you say ‘ _white_.’ You never listen. It’s like you enjoy winding me up or something.”

Bucky waited a moment as if he was expecting an answer, but you just lay there, motionless. He rounded the table in two long strides and hunched over you. He brushed your hair away from your face, combing his fingers loosely through your hair.

“It’s a good thing you can’t interrupt me,” he said, a ghost of a smile curling his lips. “Now I can tell you how much I love you and you can’t tell me how much you hate me.”

He dropped a kiss to your forehead and closed his eyes shut. He finally had you all to himself, even if it was just for a second. As he moved away, he felt an intense pain in his chest, like someone had placed his heart in a vice grip and was applying pressure.

Bucky hissed through clenched teeth as something cracked open in his chest. The pain gradually faded and he relaxed slightly, wondering what just happened. He felt a flutter in his chest, something he hadn’t felt in centuries. His heart began to beat again, hard and fast, sending warmth through his veins.

His eyes still closed, he felt a smooth finger trace the crease that had formed between his brows. When he opened his eyes, he found himself staring into your eyes. He looked completely lost and it made you smile.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” he parroted, completely flabbergasted.

Bucky gently helped you into a sitting position and had to hold on to you so you wouldn’t fall. He sat next to you on the table and observed you warily. You gave yourself a quick once over and turned your head to look at him.

“You changed my clothes?”

“Nat did,” Bucky almost choked on the words, then cleared his throat. “They were covered in blood.”

You let your legs dangle over the side of the table and smoothed the skirt of your long white dress. A long silence settled between you. You braced yourself and brought up the subject that you both had been avoiding

“So, I was dead, but now I’m not,” you said, glancing sideways at him. “I am a ghost or-”

“You were dead, but apparently…” he exhaled slowly and rubbed the back of his neck, grimacing. “I woke you up.”

“How?” You felt him shift uncomfortably next to you.

“I kissed you,” Bucky blurted out. “On the forehead,” he quickly added when you raised a brow at him.

“You kissed me on the forehead,” you repeated, frowning. “You can resurrect the dead with your lips?”

Bucky ducked his head to hide his blush. You looked at him and laughed softly, your smile threatening to split your face. You had never seen him blush before, but you definitely enjoyed the sight.

“True love’s kiss,” he said, looking up at you, then you started laughing quietly and his face fell. “You don’t believe in true love?”

“I do, but I never thought I’d have one.”

“Yeah, well, that you like it or not, I’m your true love,” he replied, his tone bitter.

You mentally scolded yourself and tried to think of what you could say or do to make things better. Sighing inwardly, you took his hand and linked your fingers together. His head snapped up and your eyes met.

“Nat said you had a frozen heart, but your skin is so warm,” you said, grinning. “Oh, and you’re blushing now, that’s new too.”

“True love’s kiss really does wonders, huh?” He bumped his shoulder against yours, a cheeky smile curling his lips.

“Apparently.”

You laid your free hand against his chest, his muscles twitching under your touch. His heartbeat thumped hard and fast under your palm. Bucky leaned in and pressed his forehead against yours. You stayed in that position for what felt like a very long time before you broke the silence.

“I feel weird, like I could do anything.”

“It’s quite normal,” he replied, pulling back so he could look you in the eye. “Our souls are linked, I’m sharing my immortality with you.”

You jumped off the table, your legs almost buckled under you. Bucky was beside you in a heartbeat and caught you before you could fall.

“I’m immortal?” you said, disbelief lacing your voice. He nodded. “Woah…”

“We’re not like other immortals.” Bucky’s arms circled your waist and drew you close. “True love is rare and I’m pretty sure you have powers now. I can feel the energy pulsing through you.”

“I’m kind of scared,” you replied honestly.

“It’s going to be okay, I’m here.” He brushed his lips against your temple. “But you have to promise me one thing.”

“What?”

“You can’t keep sacrificing yourself for the sake of others. Darlin’, I’m not worth it. We may be immortal, but we can feel pain and I can’t go through that again. Promise me.”

“You know I can’t.” You flinched when Bucky let out a loud groan. “You stayed by my side and tried everything to bring me back. No one ever did that for me and, honestly, I like seeing you like this.”

“What, frustrated?”

“Concerned.” You angled your head up and smiled. “It’s nice to know you have my back.”

“Always.”

He tilted his head to the side, his eyelids fluttering closed and his lips parting. Exhilaration coursed through you as you mimicked his movements. You could feel his warm breath fan your lips, but then someone knocked on the door. Reluctantly, Bucky let them in.

“Steve!” you cried, pulling away from Bucky to throw yourself into Steve’s arms. His arms went around you and he returned the embrace.

“I was told you needed my help, but…” he trailed off, his eyes darting from Bucky to you. “I’m sorry. I should have known Pierce was not a guardian angel. I can’t-”

“It’s okay,” you interrupted him. “It wasn’t your fault and I’m back now.”

“Thank you for bringing her back,” Steve told Bucky who made a noncommittal noise in response. “So you and him…” Steve whispered to you.

“Yeah, I think so.” You watched as Steve pursed his lips and nodded slowly. “I meant everything I said to you, Steve. You’re a wonderful man and you made me feel so special.”

“You are special. And he’s very lucky.”

A satisfied smile played on Bucky’s lips as he watched Captain America’s retreating figure. You had chosen him and it made him happier than he had ever thought possible. Steve paused at the threshold and turned toward you.

“If your new beau lets us leave the dungeons, I’d really like to see you again.”

You whirled around to face Bucky, your face a picture of astonishment. He shuffled his feet awkwardly and avoided your angry eyes. He looked like a little boy who had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“You put  _my friends_ in the dungeons?” You nearly shouted. “Seriously?!”

Bucky stumbled over his words, and for the first time in his life, his confidence vanished completely. Steve’s small smirk wasn’t helping at all. So instead of making a bigger fool of himself, Bucky took a few steps towards Steve and pushed him out of the room.

“You’re all pardoned, now get the hell outta here,” he said, slamming the door in his face.

“You’re unbelievable,” you sighed, rubbing the spot between your eyes. You closed your eyes and took a minute to gather your thoughts. “You thought Steve was my true love?”

“Well, you always spoke so highly of him.”

“I was trying to make you jealous.”

“Clearly, it worked,” he remarked dryly. “From now on, no more grand romantic gestures. I mean communication is a big part of a relationship, right?”

You took his outstretched hand and let him bring you closer. The word ‘ _relationship’_  made your heart do a little somersault and you nodded vehemently, pleased with his initiative.

“I’ll start,” he said, then took a deep breath. “I don’t like Steve-”

“You don’t say,” you teased. Bucky glared at you and you mouthed an apology, gesturing for him to continue.

“But I’ll admit that he’s a good guy and he means a lot to you. I will try to be civil, but I can’t promise anything,” he sighed. “Okay, your turn.”

“I acted like a brat and I’m sorry. I’m not better than you or Nat or Wanda. I think I signed the contract because I really wanted a different life, but then it became so real and it frightened me.”

Bucky lifted your head toward his and smiled sweetly. Your faces were so close that you could see a smattering of freckles across his nose. His lips brushed over yours… and then the door slammed open.

“I KNEW IT!” Wanda screamed, grabbing Nat’s arm.

“Don’t mind us.” Nat had a big smile on her face. “Pretend we’re not even here.”

“You guys are so cute,” Wanda squealed, her eyes sparkling.

Bucky pulled away from you, his jaw set tight. You ran a soothing hand down his metal arm and turned to the Furies. They were covered in blood, gigantic smiles on their faces… it was right out of a Stephen King novel.

“Whose blood is it?”

“Pierce’s,” Nat said.

“Is he dead?”

“He died twice,” Wanda grinned, sharing an amused look with Nat. “Now he’s passed out, it’s not fun to torture him if we can’t hear him scream.”

You shrugged, you couldn’t care less about Pierce. He killed you, tortured Bucky for years, murdered Nick Fury and Lord knows what else. Bucky cleared his throat noisily, hoping they’d get the hint and leave

“Wait,” you stopped them. “I know I haven’t been the nicest person, but… thank you for everything.”

“No worries, that’s what friends do, huh?” Nat chuckled when you gave her a bashful smile. “Friday nights are girls’ nights out. No boys allowed.”

“I’ll be there,” you promised, mirroring her smile.

Wanda made a funny noise, as though she was choking on her saliva, and clapped her hand excitedly. Once they were gone, Bucky breathed a sigh of relief and held out his arms.

“C’mere before someone else shows up uninvited.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck as he backed you against the door with his hands on your waist. You shivered at the seductive look he gave you, his lower lip trapped between his teeth. He kissed you hard and deep and when his tongue slipped into your mouth, you moaned shamelessly against his lips.

After a moment he leaned back and rested his forehead against yours. You breathed in sync, chests rising and falling against each other.

“Bucky?”

“Mhhm.”

“When I was dead, I was in the antechamber and I thought I’d have to spend all eternity trapped there. All these poor souls, wandering aimlessly, it was awful. Can you let them in?”

“Anything for you, my love.” He pressed his lips to yours again.

“Oh, one more thing,” you said, tapping his chest before he could deepen the kiss. “Now that you don’t need an army of heartless people to defeat Pierce-” you watched Bucky’s eyes widen, “-yes, Nick told me. You’re both completely crazy. I think it’s time to return the hearts. Honestly, it’s creeping me out.”

He dropped his forehead to your shoulder and exhaled slowly. “Fine,” he said, meeting your eyes. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

“You can’t die, you’re immortal.” You laughed when he rolled his eyes.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone who kept reading this series. You mean a lot to me :)

 

You stood in the middle of the throne room, arms crossed, observing the two chairs on the slightly elevated pedestal. You were startled out of your thoughts when you felt two strong arms wrap around your waist from behind.

“A penny for your thoughts?” Bucky asked, kissing your cheek.

“Why is my throne bigger than yours?”

“Because I love you.”

Laughing softly, you turned in his arms and gave him a loving kiss. You heard the shuffling of feet as several guards left the room and pulled away from Bucky.

“Are you ready for your coronation tomorrow?” he asked, his words muffled against your neck.

“It’ll be okay.” You took him by the hand and started to lead him down the hall toward your room. “I have something to show you.”

You closed the door while Bucky sat down on the edge of the bed. You walked over to him and nudged his legs open with your knee. He put his hands on your hips as you settled between his spread legs. Smiling, you slid a finger under the knot of his tie and loosened it.

“I like where this is going.” He helped you and tossed the tie over his shoulder.

“It’s not what you think,” you scoffed, now unbuttoning his black shirt. He cocked a brow at you, a cheeky smile on his lips. “Really, it’s not what you think.” He shrugged out of his shirt as you pushed the material down his arms. 

“Uh-huh,” he replied, not convinced.

A few days after you came back from the dead, you began to notice changes in your life. In addition to being immortal, you realized that you had extraordinary powers. You were able to heal people or, occasionally, bring them back to life.

Bucky was excited, but sensing your fear, he called the Fates who confirmed that you were now a Goddess. Not just any Goddess, but the Goddess of Healing. It took you a moment to accept it; after all, you were just a normal girl.

However, the more you thought about it, the more appealing the idea became. It was fitting, since the God of Death brought you back to life.

“I worked on something,” you told Bucky, taking his metal hand in yours. “I think I can regenerate your arm.”

“My love,” he sighed, “the Hydra did this to me a long time ago. Its magic is very powerful, you can’t-”

“Shush, I’m working!”

You ran your hands up and down his metal arms, focusing on the healing energy pulsing through your fingers. Bucky just sat there, a small smile on his face as he watched you. When nothing happened, you reluctantly admitted defeat.

“Oh, my Queen,” Bucky cooed, pulling you onto his lap. “Don’t be sad. You already saved me, you cured my heart. The rest doesn’t matter.”

“I’m the Goddess of Garbage,” you mumbled against his shoulder.

Bucky chuckled and kissed the top of your head before he set you on the mattress. He crossed the room in a few strides and opened the top drawer of his dresser. You noticed he was hiding something behind his back.

“I wanted to wait, but I can’t keep this secret any longer.”

He sat back on the bed and handed you a small wooden box. You lifted the hinged lid, aware of his intense grey eyes studying your face.

“Is that a-”

“-crown,” he finished. “Do you like it?”

“Fuck, it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen!”

“I had it made especially for you.” Bucky took the crown from your hands and placed it on your head. “For my Queen.”

You stood up from the bed and raised your eyes to your reflection in the oval mirror fixed to the wall above the dresser. Bucky joined you, wrapping his arms around your waist as he met your eyes in the mirror.

“You look beautiful.”

Your lips parted to thank him when you felt his left hand gently stroke your forearm. Your eyes widened and you lowered your gaze to his hand to make sure you were not dreaming.

“Oh, my God, I did it!” you screamed, startling him. “I regenerated your arm!”

He looked down at his hand, a shocked look on his face. He slowly raised his head and looked at you. The look in his eyes, one of admiration and amazement, rendered you speechless. He cupped your face with his flesh hands and covered your mouth with his own, drinking you in.

“A life without you, even an immortal life, would be empty.”


End file.
